


The suit maketh the man

by m_findlow



Category: Torchwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 00:24:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14249052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_findlow/pseuds/m_findlow
Summary: Jack quickly becomes accustomed to his newest employee's dress code





	The suit maketh the man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badly_knitted](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badly_knitted/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A suitable disguise](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/369162) by Badly_knitted. 



> Written for juliet316’s prompt ‘Torchwood, Ianto, in a way, the suits were his armor’ as remix for badly_knitted's original fill at fic_promptly

Jack wasn't entirely prepared to admit it yet, but perhaps he had indeed made the right decision in taking on this Ianto Jones from Torchwood One. Hiring him was just one more of those impulsive decisions Jack had made, in a long line of impulsive decisions, that had more to do with his heart than with his head.

The boy had been persistent it was true, and Jack found him more than good looking enough, but as soon as he'd stepped out in front of the SUV, decked out in that sharp suit, Jack's defences began to crumble.

It was almost shaming to admit that his tirade about running him over was nothing more than dissembling so that he didn't grab him by the collar and take him right there and then. The young man - yes man, not boy - had a fierce determined look about him, and Jack began to believe that old earth saying about how the clothes maketh the man. How he would have liked to rip off those clothes in the warehouse after they'd captured Myfanwy! Ianto however just shrugged off what Jack felt was an obvious mutual attraction, as if it were a piece of lint on his well tailored jacket, and impervious to the pheromones that tried to cling to it, sliding off like water off a duck's back.

Jack was more than pleased to find that Ianto would turn up to work every single day dressed in his oppulent suits, crisp shirts and luscious silk ties. It gave him that sexy air of confidence and authority without the need to actually impose any authority whatsoever. That, and being armed with a cup of the most fabulous coffee ever created, Jack was more than happy to defer to Ianto's prescient power. Hell, he'd probably have rolled over on the floor like a dog if only he'd been asked.

Did he perhaps lavish such attention on his clothes to garner Jack's own attentions? But no, that wasn't the young man's style. He was skillful and efficient, and somehow managed to do everything Jack could have ever wanted, even if he didn't even know what it was that he needed. He fitted in seamlessly and unobtrusively, like a piece of the puzzle that had long been missing, now finally slotted into its rightful place. He was quietly self assured, rather than shy, and the suit simply reflected the persona underneath. In the dark and drab hallways of the hub, that dark suit would often disappear imperceptibly, camouflaged, and Ianto's presence disappeared from the minds of his teammates in much the same way.

Jack thought he could read him like a book, but what would it take to ruffle those feathers, he wondered.

Just as quickly though, the rift would throw up something new, and Jack's thoughts about this new addition to his team would quickly fade away into the background.

He hadn't even realised that was Ianto's plan all along.


End file.
